


Turnabout Kid Brother

by VivaRocksteady



Series: Jake's search for his siblings [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Ace Attorney spoilers up to AJ, B99 spoilers up to E509, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Jake's search for his siblings, M/M, TW: Roger Peralta, Teen rating might be a bit too high but just in case, relentless roger bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-02-15 03:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13022352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivaRocksteady/pseuds/VivaRocksteady
Summary: When he was 10, Jake Peralta would have killed to have a little brother.So at 35, he doesn't even care that his new little brother is a defence attorney.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have two other AA WIPs right now, but this got into my brain and I couldn't do anything about it! It'll be short, I promise! 
> 
> Here's hoping I don't end up giving Jake a sibling in every show I watch now. Jeeze.

For the millionth time since they’d started their relationship, Jake thanked whatever adorable baby-sized angel of love had sent him Amy Santiago. Not two weeks had passed since his deadbeat loser dad had sprung the surprise of _multiple_ secret half-siblings scattered across the country on him, and Amy had already helped him track one down.

Obviously, Jacob “Sherlock” Peralta was an amazing detective/genius and could/would find all his siblings on his own, but he had approached the task with his usual wide-eyed bluster, immediately gotten overwhelmed, and dumped it in the back of his mind like so much important mail into a bathtub. There were just too many leads to chase at once, and without the importance of a criminal in need of justice or an innocent person in danger, he found it impossible to pick one. But Amy, meticulous, beautiful, neurotically focused Amy, had logically picked the one likely located in Los Angeles, because they all had to go there for their old captain’s funeral anyway. 

It was _nominally_ a sombre occasion, but on the plane ride over, Jake couldn’t help grinning as he read the articles Amy had printed up for him. 

She’d only contacted this kid the other day, just after they were told about Captain McGintley’s death. This made Jake think she’d actually already had a lead on him, and perhaps had a lead on the other siblings as well, but he’d let her do her little surprises for him, because being so organized and ahead-of-schedule made her happy. Though it made him a little embarrassed really, since the most remarkable thing he’d done lately was learn how to do the Worm. 

The guy had apparently only confirmed that he was willing to meet Jake the day they were set to leave. Amy waited until they were in the air to say anything. Jake was sandwiched between her on one side and Terry spilling out of his seat on the other, grumbling about how he’d bump up to first class on the way home. After the seatbelt sign was turned off, Amy pulled out her carry-on briefcase and presented Jake with the binder she’d prepared about his new kid brother: Phoenix Wright. 

“This is so cool,” he repeated for the umpteenth time. “I have a little brother!” 

Wright was born when Jake was ten. At ten, Jake would have _killed_ to have a baby brother. It still hurt, a little. When he was ten and his dad had abandoned him, and his mom was working so hard to put food on the table, his dad was out making little brothers and sisters Jake wouldn’t even get to know about, and then abandoning _them_ , too. But it didn’t matter anymore. They were meeting now, and Roger could go straight to hell for all Jake cared. 

“I’m surprised you’re not upset he’s a defence attorney,” Amy said.

“Me, too,” Terry said. “It wasn’t that long ago you thought all defence attorneys were snakes.” 

Jake shrugged. “I guess getting falsely convicted has made me soft,” he quipped. 

Amy smiled at him tenderly, and rested her head on his shoulder as he kept reading. 

Jake didn’t tell her that Sophia had changed his mind on that front as well, though it was obvious to anyone who had known them. And that the tenacity and moral conviction he found so attractive in Amy was something he saw in Sophia. And he was seeing in his new kid brother, too. He read through all the articles about his cases intently, marvelling at how black and white and hopeless they all seemed. He remembered how hopeless he’d felt in prison, how quickly he became less than human, with only monsters for friends; how low he was willing to fall just to hear Amy’s voice. 

His new kid brother, _Phoenix Wright_ what a _cool name_ , had somehow turned all his cases around at the eleventh hour, in appropriately flashy, Peralta fashion, and saved his clients from the torture Jake had gone through. Or worse. Seeing how Wright figured it out, how he sleuthed for the truth and put the puzzle together, and how he’d probably make a pretty good detective— it all helped Jake’s new mindset that maybe defence attorneys weren’t all bad, and maybe there was something worthwhile in the Peralta blood after all. 

“So, uh, I’m not going to be able to mention any of this,” Jake said. “I mean, he’s probably going to be creeped out that you made a binder.” He was remembering the horror when he realized Amy’s dad had prepared a binder about _him_ in preparation to meet, even though he’d done the same thing. 

Amy shrugged. “He’s a defence attorney. If he’s even remotely good at his job, he’d do the same level of research on all of his clients.”

“I don’t know, Amy,” Terry piped up. “He _is_ a Peralta.”

“Oh,” Amy frowned. “Right.” 

Jake would’ve said something pithy or sarcastic, or at least tried, but he only smiled and kept reading. He didn’t care. Maybe this kid was _a Peralta_ , but Jake already loved him.

—

Jake was so hyped up on the news that he had half-siblings across the country that he could hardly wait until Roger was out of the hospital and thinking straight again before he pounced on him for more information. 

“Oh, jeez, Jake,” Roger said pathetically when Jake cornered him in the kitchen of his mom’s house. “I— I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Jake glared. “Just drop it, Dad. You said I had a bunch of half-sisters, and then you _heavily implied_ I had a bunch of half-brothers, too. You gotta help me out!” 

Roger glanced at the doorway to the living room, where Karen was folding laundry. “I, uh, I don’t remember telling you that.”

They heard Karen sigh heavily. “Don’t keep lying on my account,” she called. “I’ve known about your other kids for years. I just thought you should be the one to tell him. So tell him!”

Jake felt his face getting hot. _Like, really, Mom?_ But he fixed his gaze on Roger and waited for him to come clean. 

Roger sighed, and finally started telling the truth. He was only in contact with three of his other kids, but he knew about the rest— or at least he knew about _some_. He hadn’t met any of them, and had fallen out of contact with the mothers. Except for the three he was in contact with, the other mothers had not pursued child support— and frankly, as they started making the list, Jake realized that if he had been required to pay child support, Roger would have ended up bankrupt. 

_Gross, Dad._

Roger reluctantly agreed when Jake said he ought to tell the other three kids he was in contact with that they had siblings— _He hadn’t yet! He’d only told Jake!_ — because they should hear it from their dad, not from some stranger. That left the other women, who had told him they were pregnant and/or had a baby, but had then decided to wash their hands of him, which Jake thought was very fair, and absolutely what he would have done. In his experience, the paltry sum of child support was not worth having Roger Peralta in your life.

Roger gave him the names of the women he knew had given birth that he no longer had contact with, at least the ones he could remember. But besides the city they had lived in— if he wasn’t mixing them up!— he didn’t know any way to find them. He hadn’t bothered. He hadn’t even tried looking them up on Facebook or anything.

When Jake naively noted that most of the names his dad could remember so far were distinctly ethnic— Chinese, Spanish, Persian, Polish, etc— Roger shrugged. “I was trying to get bingo,” he said, and Jake almost threw up in his mouth. 

In the end there were fourteen (!!) women on the list, with the possibility that Roger might remember more. Jake had to assume at least some of these kids ended up going into foster care or adoption, and unless they were all open adoptions, they might not be possible to track down. And he had to assume that Roger was mistaken about some of the names, or whether the women had decided to have an abortion or not.

But that still left too many for him to just pick one and start working on it. None of them were in New York, which would have helped. 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to choose, and Amy gave him one of the best gifts he’d ever gotten. Arguably even better than the signed tank top Bruce Willis wore in Die Hard. 

The tank top was most likely fake— and meeting his siblings might be a disaster— but it’s the thought that counts. 

—

“Okay,” Amy said after she had finished unpacking her bag in their hotel room, while Jake lounged on the bed and got Cheeto crumbs all over it. Amy was one of two people Jake knew who would unpack their bag for a single night in a hotel room, and it was _so_ adorable. “We’re meeting him at the bar in an hour and a half. It’s 6:00 now. We’ll eat downstairs, get a cab at 6:45, which will get us there fifteen minutes early. We’ll stay until 9:30, then come back here so we can go to bed and get up nice and early for the funeral.” 

“Or,” Jake said, mouth full, “we can just get drunk with my new kid brother, who _might_ want to take his super cool new _big_ brother to one of LA’s many hotspots, you know, for brotherly bonding.”

“You’re not showing up to the funeral late and hungover, Jake. He was our captain.”

“Showing up late and hungover to his funeral is _exactly_ what Captain McGintley would have wanted from us,” Jake argued. 

“Maybe, but Captain Holt is still alive, and probably going to live forever, so what he thinks is more important, right?” 

Jake grumbled, but tossed his empty snack bag on the ground near the garbage bin. “Fine,” he said. 

“Mr. Wright already knows we can only spend two hours. Anyways, it’s good to have a curfew in case it turns out to be awkward, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jake said. “You’re always right.” He reached out to kiss her, but she pulled away. 

“You have Cheeto dust all over you! Go wash up. Is that what you’re wearing?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Jake looked down at his jeans and t-shirt. “Brooklyn casual. Universally cool.”

“And the very orange handprint on your pants?”

“Oh.” He went to wash his hands and face, and then change into the spare set of casual clothes Amy had very smartly packed for him. 

“I didn’t want to tell you this earlier because I didn’t want you to be nervous,” Amy said as they were finishing up their dinner in the hotel restaurant. She checked her phone, waiting for the cab she had ordered in advance. “But his boyfriend is going to be there.”

“Why would that make me nervous?” Jake asked. Then: “Aww, my little brother has a boyfriend? That’s so cute!” 

“He’s an ADA. A prosecutor.”

“Huh? Really?” Jake reeled a little. That was about as big a not-quite-conflict-of-interest as him dating Sophia. He and Phoenix already had so much in common!

“Yeah. So, you know…” Amy trailed off, but was giving him a very obvious look. 

“Wh— he’s not even— I’m not going to embarrass myself in front of this guy!”

“I don’t think you’re going to embarrass yourself,” Amy said, with that overly sweet tone that meant she was absolutely sure he was going to embarrass himself. “It’s just that, you know, if he loves Mr. Wright, then he’s probably a little suspicious that this guy just comes out of nowhere and claims to be his family. Mr. Wright’s mom never married, so it’s not like he had a dad around, which is like… well, it’s like you. And if it were you, and some dude swooped in claiming to be your long-lost big brother… I’d be suspicious.” She shrugged and fiddled with the straw in her glass of water. 

Jake felt a blush rise to his cheeks, which seemed to be happening a lot around Amy. Well, it always happened a lot around Amy, but it had really ramped up since they got engaged.

She wasn’t saying it, but there was also the fact that she might be a sergeant soon, and if she wanted to be a police captain one day, she had to be open to the possibility of moving to a department in a different city. This was a chance for her to start a friendly relationship with an ADA, which never hurt.

So Jake didn’t mind being on his best behaviour for her sake. He didn’t mind doing _anything_ for her. 

“You’re amazing,” he said as they went outside. The cab driver had alerted her app that he was about to pull up. “But now I’m getting nervous. This kid kind of seems like an overachiever, and I’m just this 30-something detective who, while being amazingly handsome and cool, still has crippling debt.” 

“I don’t think you should worry about that,” Amy said. “He _is_ a Peralta.” 

This time, Jake narrowed his eyes at her, and would have said something pithy or sarcastic, but Amy smiled and laughed and her eyes were sparkling in that way that got him right in the stomach. 

So he just kissed her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not being too literal with the AA timeline here, since it seems a bit slapdash anyway, what with AAI being released out of chronological order. So while it's early December 2017, let's pretend Edgeworth was only fake dead for a short while, and came back waaaay earlier, enough time for him and Phoenix to fix their relationship and start dating. 
> 
> Also I hope my Edgeworth is in character! He came out more like SOJ era Edgeworth IMO.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming so early,” Phoenix said. His knee was bouncing, and he found that whenever he stopped the nervous tic, another one appeared in its place. 

“It is simply good manners to be early,” Edgeworth said, his tone clipped as he sipped at his tea, the only person Phoenix knew who would order tea at a bar. “And it gives you a chance to prepare.”

“Twenty minutes is a little excessive. Now I just have to stew in it.” 

Edgeworth looked up from his tablet, where he was reading the file Sergeant Santiago had sent Phoenix. “Stew in what, exactly? You were bouncing with excitement the other day.” 

“That was before you made such a stink about coming with me _just in case_. Now I’m worried he might be a murderer.”

“I find it very hard to believe you’re worried about _that_. For all my attempts to persuade you otherwise, you are rather stubborn about believing in the goodness of everyone.” Edgeworth put the tablet aside and regarded Phoenix. “What’s wrong?” he asked. 

Phoenix ignored him, and fidgeted with the hem of his button-down shirt. “Do you think I look okay?”

“I think you look quite a bit more than _okay_ , I’ll have you know.”

It wasn’t fair of Edgeworth to say things like that, because he said them so sparingly that they always caught Phoenix off guard. Phoenix got all bashful and wanted to hide under the table. 

“You’re dressed very appropriately for a casual drink,” Edgeworth confirmed, after letting Phoenix blush and squirm for a bit. He was also casually dressed, for a given value of “casual.” He was in slacks and a waistcoat, a short-sleeved shirt and a cravat— a real one, the kind that tucked down, not the frilly thing he’d recently informed Phoenix was _actually_ called a jabot. 

Phoenix had almost worn his suit— an ingrained habit when going to meet with police officers. When Edgeworth told him to dress casual, he went for jeans and a t-shirt, but then saw what Edgeworth considered casual, and settled for the button-down shirt. 

“Are you nervous?” Edgeworth asked, gently. “What ever for?”

Phoenix groaned, and looked anywhere but at his boyfriend. “I don’t know,” he said. 

“Are you afraid he won’t like you?”

Phoenix shrugged. “Most people don’t,” he muttered. 

“Now, that’s not true at all.”

Phoenix gave Edgeworth a look. 

“People of taste like you just fine,” Edgeworth amended. “You have many who adore you. Miss Fey, for example, and little Pearl.” There was a pause, just long enough to get a little awkward. “And me, of course.”

Phoenix shrugged bashfully into the warm feeling that came when he heard those words, no matter how long the pause before them. “I know,” he said. 

“If he’s foolish enough to dislike you, then he’s deficient, and you don’t need to have anything to do with him. Blood does not make family, after all.”

“I know.”

Edgeworth was scrolling through the tablet again. “From what Sergeant Santiago has sent you, though, I don’t see why he wouldn’t like you. You have a lot in common.”

“I didn’t read it.” 

Edgeworth looked slightly surprised, but only for a moment, like he realized he should have expected as much. “Why not?”

Phoenix shrugged again. “I don’t know. Nerves, I guess. And I didn’t want to get too attached, in case… you know.” 

“Yes,” Edgeworth said. “You do get awfully attached, don’t you, poor thing.” He discreetly laid a hand on Phoenix’s knee under the table. 

Phoenix had told Edgeworth about Dahlia, the sum total of his previous relationships, about a month ago. The men had only been officially dating for four months, and Edgeworth hadn’t been pushing for more details about Phoenix’s past, but he was clearly curious about it. Phoenix only told him after his never-ending research into Chief’s old files revealed that Edgeworth had actually dealt with Dahlia before. 

Edgeworth was furious. For Phoenix, not at him. Furious that it had happened, that he had failed to catch Dahlia the first time, which meant that he had somehow failed to protect Phoenix, who wasn’t even in his life at the time. But that seemed to be how the two of them worked. Edgeworth hadn’t gone so far as to pledge that he’d protect Phoenix forever now, but the way he tutted Phoenix’s decisions, and clothing, and logic, all had an undercurrent of watchfulness. 

So later, when Phoenix excitedly told him he’d been contacted by his hitherto unknown long-lost big brother, Edgeworth had been, to say the least, frosty.

He’d insisted on speaking to Phoenix’s mother himself, even though Phoenix already confirmed the story with her. And Phoenix had always known his absent father’s name— he had just never felt ready to track him down before. If his father wanted him, he’d reasoned, he’d come for him. He never did, of course, but now his brother had. 

Edgeworth then insisted on coming along to meet this Jacob Peralta, _just in case_. 

Most of all, he cautioned Phoenix that he had to avoid allowing himself to be used by this person. Especially if his no-account father tried to re-enter the picture. “I know a thing about bad father figures,” he’d said, in a rare moment of emotional honesty. “It is really not worth it.”

But Edgeworth also knew more than Phoenix about _good_ father figures, and maybe that’s why he couldn’t understand this. Edgeworth might have lost both parents when he was young, and his father in the worst way Phoenix had ever heard— but they hadn’t left him by choice. They hadn’t decided to have nothing to do with him. He’d had them both, and they both loved him. 

Phoenix had been so solitary as a child, with a harried mother working multiple jobs to make ends meet, and no siblings to share long stretches of lonely days with. The closest things to a father he’d had were one or two boyfriends of his mother’s— and they weren’t _bad_ , but they didn’t love him. They left, too. 

He wasn’t a popular child, either. He was the quintessential latchkey kid, walking home alone to an empty house and a microwave dinner. He was often bullied, and had no father to teach him how to stick up for himself. His mother tried, but she was always so tired, and he didn’t want to burden her.

For most of Phoenix’s childhood, his only friends were Miles and Larry. They were the only people who ever defended him, who ever lifted him up. And then Miles left, of course, and there was only Larry. Then girls came along, and there wasn’t even Larry anymore, not meaningfully. Then there was Dahlia, right when he was so desperate to have Miles, or _anyone_ , and he was primed for her like a starving rat for a baited trap. 

Phoenix loved his mother dearly, but her lifetime of working multiple jobs with little time off meant that, even as an over-worked adult himself, he barely knew her. He had always ached for more of a family. Maybe that’s why he latched onto Chief’s so fast and thoroughly. And why, until Edgeworth told him to, he hadn’t even considered that a long-lost brother might be bad news. 

But as always, Edgeworth had noted with a little sigh and a shake of his head, Phoenix would live in hope. 

Edgeworth stroked Phoenix’s knee softly. “By the way, have you told Miss Fey yet?”

Phoenix snorted. “No, I was afraid she’d jump on a train and insist on being here. I think I’ll give him some breathing space before springing her on him.”

Edgeworth did his little half-smile. “Have you… have you considered what you want out of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Edgeworth shrugged. “I suppose there’s no road map for these things, and treating it as a _blind date_ , as it were, is perfectly acceptable. But if it were me, I think I’d want to define how the relationship should move forward. And boundaries, as well.”

Phoenix thought for a moment. “I suppose I want what you and Franziska have.” 

Edgeworth snorted his amused little laugh. “A physically abusive rivalry?”

Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Someone who came from the same place,” he said. “Someone who gets it. I don’t know.” 

Edgeworth’s smile softened. “Yes, I suppose what Franziska and I have is rather special. But I still wouldn’t wish her upon anyone. Ah, here they are. Perfectly punctual. I’m sure you’re glad we were early now.”

Edgeworth stood, and Phoenix looked up to see what he could only describe as a cute couple walking up to the bar’s patio. 

“Hello!” the woman said, with a very chipper voice. “Prosecutor Edgeworth?”

“Sergeant Santiago,” they shook hands. Phoenix stood, and stared at the guy. 

“Please, call me Amy,” she said. “I am _so_ sorry we’re late.” 

“You’re right on time…” Phoenix said softly. He was staring at Jake. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” she said. She sounded a little breathless, and highly strung in a way that Phoenix found slightly familiar. It was a high strung-ness he associated with the exceedingly rare _good cops_ he dealt with. None of them could stand him. “Jake’s friend found out where we were going and tried to come along at the last minute. Anyway! This is Jake.”

“Detective Peralta.” Edgeworth would have shook his hand, but Jake was still looking shell-shocked, so he just nodded in greeting, and was ignored, anyway. “This is Phoenix Wright.” 

The two men in question kept staring at each other, smiling weakly. 

“We don’t look anything alike!” Jake finally exclaimed, and Phoenix couldn’t tell if he sounded disappointed or not.

“Well, we’re only half,” Phoenix said weakly. “Uh, my mom is Asian.” 

“Oh, that’s fascinating!” Amy said. “But your name is Wright?” 

Edgeworth looked on fondly as Phoenix hemmed and hawed. “Uh, a great-great-grandfather was English. He went back to Japan with his wife, and then their son came to the States, and anyway my mom is also Chinese and Vietnamese?”

“That’s so cool,” Jake said. “My mom is Jewish. We’re like the United Nations!” He spread his arms to indicate the whole group. 

“I guess so,” said Phoenix. He really couldn’t tell what he felt. Maybe he should have read the file. But would that have made his long-held-in-check ache for family any less painful, and Jake any less clearly nervous?

“Can I hug you?” Jake suddenly blurted out. There was a collective, slight flinch of awkwardness, but Jake seemed to just power through it. “It’s just that when I was a kid I saw this movie where there was this kid, and his parents bring this baby home and they say ‘meet your new baby brother!’ and he got to hold the baby and I always wanted to do that, and never mind, that was weird, forget I said anything.” He flailed his arms awkwardly, coming to rest around himself in a version of the hug he had just asked for. 

“No, it’s okay,” Phoenix said, even though he wasn’t sure. He remembered Chief telling him to smile for his clients, and that didn’t seem like bad advice here, either. He smiled nervously, and opened his arms. 

Jake stepped forward and hugged him. 

It was a little awkward, at first. The only man Phoenix hugged with any regularity was Edgeworth, and even that was rare, since Edgeworth wasn’t really a hugger, partly because of all his issues. (His issues were getting better, though.) Larry was even rarer, and that was always an awkward straight-guy half-hug. 

Jake was a hugger. There was no straight-guy self-consciousness, no repressed self-loathing. It was just pure, unconditional affection. It was almost exactly like hugging Maya, except Jake was taller and stronger and more solid. 

After a beat, Phoenix released a sigh, and fell deeper into the hug. It felt right, like something he’d always wanted but never known. 

“Shall we sit?” he heard Edgeworth say. He heard him and Santiago talk quietly about the drinks and menu. He let them carry on, because he didn’t feel the need or desire to end the hug. 

— 

They went for a walk after their drinks. Edgeworth suggested showing them the courthouse, and it was a nice walk on a cool, winter night in LA, brisk enough for sweaters, pleasant in a way that felt dreamy and unreal. It was past their allotted two hours, and while Amy and Edgeworth had both gently reminded them that they had a funeral in the early morning, there wasn’t any push beyond that to end their night. They were enjoying it, too. 

It took a while for the awkwardness to die down. They talked a little about work, since it seemed the logical place to catch each other up on their lives. They didn’t talk about their father at all, like they had both decided to just forget him. 

It wasn’t long until they felt like a group of old friends, talking about everything and nothing, laughing, promising to email each other about this or that. It was comfortable. 

Jake got a glimpse of Edgeworth’s tablet before he packed it away and recognized the wallpaper as something from the Skyfire Cycle. Edgeworth lit up, and they talked some nonsense about that, and it segued into nonsense about the Steel Samurai, and Amy and Phoenix gave each other long-suffering looks. They got their own back later, when they and Jake gushed about Harry Potter, and Edgeworth tried not to pout about being left out. 

When 9:30 rolled around, and they decided to extend their visit to a trip around the courthouse, Edgeworth mentioned a case he was working on, and he and Jake ended up getting into it. They walked a few paces ahead of Amy and Phoenix, arguing just loudly enough to be heard. 

“I hope he’s not bothering Mr. Edgeworth,” Amy said. 

“Are you kidding? Miles lives for this stuff,” Phoenix said. 

“So does Jake.” She looked at him sidelong and smiled. “I’m really happy you said yes to meeting him. I was afraid you’d just ignore my email, and things were so hectic the last few days, I couldn’t find a time to call.”

Phoenix laughed. When he had received her email explaining that his long-lost brother was looking for him, he actually thought she was Jake’s lawyer. The email was extremely formal and had obviously been drafted a few times. “I’m not great at checking voicemail, so I’m glad you sent the email instead.”

“Well, thank you for responding so promptly, and agreeing to see us. This means a lot to him.” 

Phoenix smiled back gently. “Me, too.” 

They caught up to Jake and Edgeworth in front of the courthouse. Edgeworth was looking thoughtful. 

“First thing on Monday, ask the detectives to look at the car again," Jake said, brimming over with enthusiasm. "They’re missing something with the driver, I’m sure of it!” 

“Your argument certainly makes sense,” Edgeworth said. “Very well. I’ll look into it.” 

“I think we have to call it a night,” Amy said.

“God, already?” Jake pouted, but relented under the flat look Amy gave him. He and Phoenix hugged once more, and promised to keep in touch, and then they were off. 

Phoenix watched them walk away for a moment, sighing. When he turned, Edgeworth was looking at him with a small smile. 

“So,” said the prosecutor, “what do you think?”

Phoenix took a deep breath, and felt an elated little swell of relief. His shoulders lifted bashfully, and he couldn’t stop smiling. “He’s _so_ great, Miles. I have a brother! This is awesome!” 

“I’m happy for you,” Edgeworth said, and his voice was soft in a way it rarely got, that broke Phoenix’s heart each time.

“Oh, wait! Nicky!” Phoenix turned, and saw Jake running back up the sidewalk towards him, Amy following at a calmer pace. “I almost forgot! Our wedding. In the spring. Come?”

“What?” Phoenix asked, eyes big. 

“It’s May 15th. Right before the royal wedding! But ours is on a basketball court, so you know it’ll be way more fun.”

In the corner of his eye, Phoenix could see Edgeworth discreetly cover whatever reaction he was having with a cough. 

“Anyway, please come! Be one of my groomsmen! Not the best man, because Charles is already the best man, also I’m a tiny bit afraid he might try to skin you and wear it somehow, but don’t worry about that, we will take care of it!”

“Oh, wow,” said Phoenix. 

“Please, please, come,” said Jake. “I know it’s a bit late notice, but…”

“Will our dad be there?” Phoenix asked. He genuinely did not know if it was a hopeful question or not. 

Jake’s face fell. He also didn’t seem to know which way he should want it to go. “I mean… he’s living with my mom again, and she’s definitely coming. So he might. But to be honest… I wouldn’t bank on it.”

Phoenix nodded, not really knowing how that made him feel. “I’d like to…” he finally said. “Miles might be overseas then, he has a lot of stuff going on.” 

“You could come stag? Or with a friend?” Jake asked, looking more and more apprehensive. 

“I… I don’t know if I could afford the flight…” Phoenix said weakly. 

“Don’t be silly,” Edgeworth tutted gently. “Of course I’d help you with the flight, and for Miss Fey as well.”

“I don’t want you to pay for it if you can’t come,” Phoenix whispered back. 

“Hey, no,” Jake said firmly. “I didn’t mean to start a thing. I get it. It’s okay. I kind of sprung it on you last minute, it’s no big.” 

“No!” Phoenix almost shouted. “I didn’t mean— no, of course not! I want to come, I do. It’s just, the dad thing makes me… I don’t know.” 

“Yeah. I know,” said Jake. 

“But the more I think about it,” said Phoenix, “the more I think, of course I want to go to my brother’s wedding. I mean, it’s my brother’s wedding.” He started to grin. “Now that I’ve said it out loud I can’t stop saying it. It’s my brother’s wedding! Of course I want to go!” 

“Yes! Thank you!” Jake wrapped him up again in one of those amazing hugs, and Phoenix found himself actually giggling. “I’ll send you the deets! Okay, we gotta go! Nice to meet you, Edgey!” He gave Edgeworth an irreverent salute and then took off, grabbing Amy’s hand and running off with her, both of them laughing.


	3. Chapter 3

**A year and a half later.**

Jake didn’t like leaving Brooklyn under the best of circumstances, and he especially didn’t like to leave his wife alone so late in her pregnancy. But when Amy sent him a link to the LA Times, and his little brother wouldn’t answer his calls, there really was no question. Amy urged him to go, saying that if it was one of her brothers, she wouldn’t hesitate.

So here he was, one stand-by flight across the country later, knocking on the door of Phoenix’s modest apartment.

“Open up, Nicky!” he called. “I know you’re in there! And I know you’re not going to just leave me hanging after coming all the way to this nightmare city to see you!”

No answer. There was a chance Phoenix was elsewhere, maybe with Maya, but he thought if Maya knew what had happened, and especially if she was with Phoenix, she would have texted Jake. Phoenix and Maya’s presence at his wedding was one of the highlights, after everyone at the precinct throwing them an awesome joint bachelor/ette party, and after Holt’s speech, and after the whole being-married-to-Amy thing. 

But watching Phoenix and Maya, both of whom had never left Southern California, be utterly city-struck with New York(/Staten Island) was pretty great, too. Maya was a lot of fun, and he ended up having an ongoing text chain with her, mostly sending each other gifs. He was certain, if she had heard the news, she would be texting him about it. She wasn’t, so she must not know. If she did not know, then she must not be with Phoenix. 

Which meant Phoenix must be home. 

“By the way, is LA ever _not_ on fire?” he called out. “It’s like the end of days out here! I feel like I need Sunblock 5000! Wait, that wouldn’t help. Well, that fell apart.”

Still nothing, but Jake wasn’t fooled. Phoenix had been having a terrible few months, and he was going to get an earful from Jake, because Jake had to hear about half of it from Maya. Her mother died, and Phoenix fell off a bridge, and then his abusive ex came back from the dead or something? And now this?

He started pounding hard and rhythmically on the door. “I’m gonna keep annoying you until you open up! La la la la la la!” 

Phoenix angrily yanked the door open. He was dressed in depression sweats and clearly hadn’t showered in days. He barely even glanced at Jake as he stomped back over to the couch.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, in lieu of a greeting.

“What are you talking about?” Jake kept his voice jovial, gently closing the door behind him. “If your big bro can’t cheer you up in your hour of need, who can?”

“I mean you shouldn’t be seen with me. You’re still a cop. I’m corrupt. I’m poison.” 

“Pshaw,” Jake waved an arm dismissively. “Captain says I’ve eaten so much processed food I’m probably preserved like ‘the mummies of pharaohic Egypt,’ so poison away! Now, are you gonna gimmie a hug or what?”

“You’d probably regret it,” Phoenix grumbled, flopping over onto his side. 

“ _You’d probably regret it_ , title of Amy’s sex tape. Don’t tell her I said that.” Jake looked around the small, messy apartment. It was his first time seeing Phoenix’s place, and he’d always thought lawyers made more money. But Phoenix probably had student debt, and if he was as bad with money as Jake, well… “Where’s Miles?”

“Europe.”

“When’s he getting in?”

Phoenix shrugged, and avoided Jake’s gaze. He seemed to pull even further inside his hoodie. “He isn’t coming. I haven’t told him yet.”

“What??”

“I haven’t— we didn’t— I can’t. We argued before he left, about something stupid. I can’t tell— I can’t tell him what I did.” 

“That’s dumb,” Jake said, making a face. “You didn’t _do_ anything. _Obviously_ someone is setting you up. Fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, but you’ve got New York’s finest on the case now!” 

Phoenix just kept sulking on the couch. Jake kept up his stream of reassuring small talk and snooped around the little apartment. He was a nervous talker, but he’d also found that letting people think you were a nervous talker was a good cover for snooping. He shifted through some papers on the kitchen counter.

“What’s this?” He held up some dense documents. “Child Services?”

Phoenix sniffled loudly. “It’s my client’s daughter. He disappeared, and he just— he just left her. She’s living in a— a _facility_.” 

Jake watched Phoenix with guarded eyes, the jovial veneer from earlier gone. He knew exactly what Phoenix was feeling, that ball of rage and hurt in his gut that never seemed to get smaller, only quieter. It was a wound that reopened for him about four times a year, when he worked a case involving a kid left behind. 

“It wasn’t _her fault_ ,” Phoenix said, eyes shining. “He used us both, and then he just _left_ her with nothing!”

Jake let the silence sit for a moment. “You want to adopt her,” he said. It wasn’t a question. 

Phoenix struggled with his words. “It doesn’t matter. There’s no way they’d let me. I’m disbarred, I have no money. Even if Mil— I’m not married. It’s hopeless.”

“You don’t know that,” Jake said, gently. He sat on the other end of the couch, still giving Phoenix space. “Charles and his girlfriend adopted, and he didn’t have any money, either. They weren’t married, and he’s a cop, which is a terrible job for a parent.”

Phoenix was shaking his head. “But he _had_ his job. I don’t see any scenario where I get to keep her.” 

“Listen, we just need to prioritize, okay?” Jake took a deep breath. Prioritizing wasn’t his strong suit. “We’ll call Amy, and she’ll give us a list of things to do. She’s probably already finished a few drafts. And we’ll call your friend Maya and she’ll probably come down here and help us clean this place up a bit. And Charles will give us some advice.” He looked at Phoenix, who was covering his face with his hands. “And we’ll call Miles.”

“No,” Phoenix said, his voice breaking. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Jake insisted, now having a few years of witnessing Holt and Kevin’s little dramas, and learning that bluntness was usually best. They were essentially two Edgeworths, so it would work here, too. “If he doesn’t want to listen I’ll go to Europe and kick his ass. Just like in the fifth Die Hard.”

Phoenix huffed a sad little laugh. “Even if they did— which… if they let me take care of her, I would just screw it up. I’d ruin her, like I ruin everything.”

“No, you won’t,” Jake said. 

Phoenix scoffed. “How would you know?”

“Because we’re not our dad.” 

Phoenix stared at him, and his eyes got super wet, and his face crumpled, and soon he was sobbing. 

Jake scooted forward, wrapped his little brother in his arms, and let him cry. Phoenix hunched over and buried his face in Jake’s chest.

Jake rested his head on top of Phoenix’s and smiled a little smile, because while this was all awful, he just had so much love in his life now. His precinct, Amy, his new baby, his little brother, and soon, his little brother’s new baby. He wouldn’t change it for anything. 

“It’s okay, Nicky,” he said. “I’m here.” 

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr!](http://vivarocksteady.tumblr.com/)


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